Rex successfully avoids General Skywalker all of the next morning and through lunch (which requires enlisting Dogma to bring him food from the mess so he can eat in a maintenance room close to the training salle where Anakin won't look for him). Ahsoka notices what he's doing in his thoughts, although thankfully not why he's doing it, and seems bemused about it whenever she brushes against his mind.
Do you want me to tell him to leave you alone? she offers, and Rex snorts.
If I thought he would listen I would love that.
Today is bad , full of nightmarish images, and he thinks it's because of all that had happened last night, the reminders of the Dark, the prospect of having to talk to General Skywalker about Kadavo.
All of this feels like his fault and if he tells Anakin what happened, Anakin will blame him, will say what Rex has said to himself ever since the mission: he should have fought .
It's when he goes back to the barracks after lunch that Anakin catches him - he walks through the door to see Dogma looking intensely awkward as his General asks, "Where the hell is he?" Dogma shoots Rex a look over Anakin's shoulder, a plea for help, and before Rex can decide if it's too cruel to back out and leave Dogma to deal with the General, Jesse points at him and says lazily, "He's right there, General."
Kriff. He's going to have Jesse doing dishes in the mess later.
He tries his best to look surprised to see General Skywalker, like he hasn't spent all day ducking out of the way down ship hallways to keep from having to talk to him, like he isn't panicking a little. "General. What did you need?"
Anakin glares at him. "I need to talk to you."
"All due respect, sir, but do we have to talk now? I have things I have to-"
" Now, Rex."
Some of his men look up in surprise, glancing from Anakin to Rex. Anakin isn't known for his patience, but he almost never snaps at Rex.
Rex sighs. "Yes, sir."
Anakin walks out of the barracks and Rex follows, taking deep, slow breaths. He promised Anakin he'd tell him (everything) and he has to keep that promise. Maybe if Anakin knows he can help Ahsoka.
It doesn't feel any better though. He can't talk about Kadavo without mentioning what had happened to him, and the last person he wants knowing about that is his General. Anakin's going to keep him off the field even longer now, maybe even reassign him. His General will know that Rex doesn't really deserve his confidence.
Anakin leads him back to his personal quarters, and Rex pulls his shields up tight around his mind, tries to force all the memories down.
And honestly it probably wasn't kind of Rex to avoid Anakin all day - after last night, his General probably deserves to at least know about what happened in Kadavo's control room.
Anakin sits down on the edge of his bed and waves his hand, pulling a chair away from a desk to sit next to his bed. "Sit," he says, and smiles a little. Rex thinks he's trying to help him feel more comfortable - it's not working, but he appreciates it. "So." Anakin fidgets a little, runs his hand over the back of his neck. "What the hell was the Son talking about?"
Rex doesn't even know where to start. He sits down in the offered chair, rests his hands on his lap, and forces himself to sit still and meet Anakin's eyes. That's harder than he'd expected.
Ahsoka looks dangerous, powerful, like lightning on Kamino, moving so fast he can't follow her strikes, and the Zygerrians fall like puppets with their strings cut.
"You have to understand, sir," he says, carefully. "What they did to us there, it- Anyone would have reacted like she did." It's an effort to force the words past a lump in his throat, and he swears silently, tries to hold it together.
She clings to the ground, screaming, and they're holding his arms, and he's choking, and he can't reach her.
"Okay," Anakin says, eyes flicking over Rex's face like he's trying to figure something out. But Rex finds he can't quite go on, doesn't want to, doesn't know how to . "Kadavo was a processing facility, right?" his General prompts, and Rex nods quickly.
"Right. We were doing mining work but I don't think that was the point." He knows it wasn't the point. "It was… They wanted to tire us out." He doesn't think he can talk about the rest . "You know slavers, sir, they had shock whips and they used them. Not… not so much on us. I tried fighting on the first day. They-" it's not that hard, just say it, "whipped some of the slaves as punishment. They were doing that to Ahsoka too."
Ahsri and the older Togrutan shrieking as the whip cuts across their headtails and shoulders, and he won't let that happen to them anymore so he lifts his hands, steps back. He can't help them.
...
Yes, Anakin knows slavers.
He knows Zygerrians, too, knows their cold cruelty, how easy it comes to them, and remembering the injuries Rex and Ahsoka had come out of Kadavo with he's pretty sure he can put together a sort of picture of what happened. He clenches his fist near his lightsaber, tries to breathe his anger out. Now is not the time. "Snips said something about them using the two of you against each other," he notes quietly, as controlled as he can be.
Rex nods again, clearly reluctant to speak. "They would… shock her, with the collar or a whip, if-" and he stops, shakes his head. "I guess they figured out we'd be more compliant that way when one of the guards," and he pauses again, "was whipping her headtails," (and Anakin grits his teeth and swallows a swear because he knows how sensitive Ahsoka's headtails are) "and they had to… hold me back." (Anakin thinks that's an understatement, probably.) "They'd been keeping us separated, but after that they put us together."
Rex stops there, swallows convulsively, and Anakin feels bad for pushing-but only a little, because he has to know, to understand. "The Son said she used the Dark Side," and his voice shakes a little despite his best efforts, and there's a hint of a growl there. "How, Rex? Why?"
He doesn't understand. His Snips would never-sure, she's fierce and bright and reckless, emotional like he is, but she doesn't have the raw hatred required to use the Dark Side.
(Unlike you, the little voice murmurs, insidious as ever, and he breathes in, sharply.)
...
She'd been so angry and cold, all hatred and vengeance, and Rex feels some of that anger pulsing with his heartbeat. It helps him ignore the images that burn at the back of his mind, Ahsoka's memory of calling the slaver Master, his own memories of arcing pain and giving up .
"They made us beg ," Rex growls, hides the tremor in his voice with fury . "When she tried to fight they punished me, and if I made a mistake, they hurt her ." He doesn't say what he wants to, that they made them kneel over and over again and he hated it every time but it was better than the pain. He wills Anakin to understand because who wouldn't want to kill after that treatment? "She just… She couldn't take any more." He grits his teeth, forces out, " I couldn't. She kept wanting to fight, but I just- That's not relevant, I'm sorry. Keeper Agruss," and the name tastes like vomit and blood and electricity, "brought us up to the command center on the last day, and Dooku said he was going to execute us. When she called you on comms they were-" kriff it , he has to get it out , "-threatening me again. She decided we had to fight so you could free the colonists." He almost lets it out, the private truth that he keeps to himself. The thing he can't admit, even to Ahsoka. "We fought them. When Agruss sabotaged the controls she… The slavers deserved every bit of what she gave them, sir, but she didn't feel like herself. After that, she got… cold." Hopefully Anakin understands what he means by that. "She was going to kill him. He said she wouldn't, but I think… she would have."
"But she didn't?" Anakin says, and he sounds relieved. His eyes are hard and icy, though, and Rex thinks maybe his General hopes Ahsoka did kill Agruss.
Rex holds up his hand, forestalling. He realizes it's shaking and quickly drops it back to his lap. "She said he made her abandon her principles in the mine," and he can still hear it, the total hatred barely masking an undercurrent of pain, "she said they shouldn't have broken her."
Anakin looks sick and Rex finally has to look away, look down at his hands. "I killed him. She was going to but I couldn't let her, I… it wouldn't have been right." He remembers the staff driving into Agruss' chest and has to stifle a surge of sick satisfaction.
"But how could she have-"
Rex doesn't even let him finish, he can't, he's tired of this. "Stop asking that! They broke us, General, they kriffing did it . Of course she used the Dark Side, that's all they gave her space for. Don't you dare reprimand her for it; I don't care if it wasn't right, none of what happened there was and she already can't karking sleep at night."
Anakin flinches, stares at him, and Rex pulls back fast. He shouldn't have said that much to his General , but he can't stand the thought of Ahsoka getting in trouble for reaching for the Dark. They had been in hell - there had been nothing else to hold on to.
...
Anakin inhales sharply, closes his eyes. The Council would demand he at the very least reprimand her, possibly worse, and he can't-won't-allow that. He won't allow them to expel his Padawan over this. If it means keeping secrets from the Council, well… it's not like he doesn't already. "Rex…"
(There's so much pain, there, and he finds he very much wants to destroy whoever and whatever made his brother hurt like this.)
His Captain looks up again, and in his golden eyes Anakin can see all the scars Kadavo left behind. "Yes, sir?"
"The Council can't know." He's short, clipped, straight to the point. "What happened last night stays between us. No one else can know. Not even Cody or Obi-Wan, vod," and he uses the Mando'a word for brother in the hope that Rex will understand he's not saying this as a General, but as a friend. (And he grits his teeth and tries to hide the way his blood boils at the fact that those sleemos broke his Snips.) "Rex," and an idea flashes into his mind, so he lowers his voice and leans forward. "You're the only person who loves her more than I do, and I know I can trust you to have her back if the Council ever does find out."
...
"I understand, sir," Rex says, trying to conceal how he suddenly feels overwhelmed. In the privacy of his own thoughts, he's always thought of Anakin as one of his vod'e , but it's not something he ever would have admitted. He'd thought it would be presuming too much.
But his General had called him brother , after Rex had finally managed to explain Kadavo, after he'd told him he was broken .
Does Anakin understand what he's just said, what that word means to him? If so, how is Rex supposed to accept that honor now? He does notdeserve it.
Never mind the implication that Rex loves Ahsoka, which he doesn't know how to respond to. He decides to ignore it and hope Anakin doesn't assume that's a confirmation. It's more serious, what Anakin's saying. That they have to protect Ahsoka, if the Council learns about the Son and the Darkness - that it might be mostly up to Rex.
"General," he says, hesitantly, and Anakin leans forward, meets his eyes like he cares and this is why he doesn't want people seeing . It's too vulnerable. "It was too much . I just wanted it to stop and I don't… I failed her." He doesn't quite say the rest of what he's thinking, although he could, right now. But Anakin wouldn't forgive him for it, so he keeps it to himself.
"You didn't, Rex," Anakin tells him, standing. Rex gets up too, but doesn't take his eyes off the floor. "Neither of you failed anyone, it's… We shouldn't have done that mission." He hears a surprising amount of bitterness and anger in Anakin's voice and looks up, finds his own weariness and pain mirrored in his General's eyes.
"Thank you, sir," Rex says, lets it go at that. "I really do have duties to get back to."
"Yeah, I know. Thank you for telling me, Rex, I've been worried about her."
Rex nods, hopes he doesn't regret it. He wants to find Ahsoka, wants to make sure she's okay.
...
Anakin can read Rex's desire to leave, to go, in his eyes; his Captain (his vod) has bared half his soul to Anakin this afternoon and it's clear he's uncomfortable. "Go," Anakin says, "check in on her." He just barely refrains from asking Rex to send her here; his Padawan will come to him on her own terms, and he just has to be patient.
Ugh, patience. He hates being patient.
"Yes, sir." Rex snaps out a salute, turns on his heel and marches out-leaving Anakin alone with his thoughts.
He wants to reach out to Padme, but they'd both agreed they needed to stick to scheduled times except for emergencies-to keep him from contacting her in the middle of a Senate speech or her from reaching for him in the middle of a battle. He can't talk to Obi-Wan, as much as he'd like to be able to; Obi-Wan is a Master and on the Council and Anakin hates it but his Master cannot be trusted with this. And he's just resolved to wait, to let Ahsoka come to him, so…
But he can't go back to his duties (which include a mission report the Council wanted yesterday, but kriff the Council, they can wait); there's too much anger pent up inside him, too much feeling, and he still wants to raze the entire Zygerrian empire to the ground, so he stands and goes to one of the doors in the walls of his room. There are two doors-the first leads to a private 'fresher, and the second opens into the small, private salle he'd had constructed for him when he first took over command of the Resolute.
The lights flicker on when they register his presence, and he grabs his lightsaber (tries to pretend his hands aren't shaking), takes up a stance in the center of the room, ignites the blade, and then he takes a deep breath and centers himself.
Ever since he was an energetic, fidgety nine-year-old new to the Temple, meditation has been hard for Anakin; finally, after weeks of struggling to teach him, Obi-Wan had hit upon the idea of using 'saber work (which he's always loved) as a sort of moving meditation, and that's what he's done ever since.
He's slow, controlled, precise as he moves through the forms-this is not training, not him attempting to increase his speed, his skill. Instead, he focuses wholly on his bright blue lightsaber blade, and as he progresses through the forms, falls deeper into the Force, he feels his anger ebb away like the retreating tide.
Ahsoka spends the morning working on paperwork.
The day before, Rex and a few other troopers had gone through and done a complete inventory of their arms and munitions; since Ahsoka's still stuck on light duty for a couple more weeks and Anakin despises paperwork, her Master has gleefully given her the task of filling out all the forms required to requisition more supplies. It's tedious, mind-numbing work, and she spends far more time than she should checking in on Rex (who, it seems, has been reduced to hiding in supply closets to avoid Anakin, though she's not sure why he's avoiding her Master), ostensibly to make sure he's alright.
(The real reason is one she can't even admit to herself: she's terrified of being alone in her head, of being cut off-of the Son coming back again.)
But by the end of the morning, the paperwork is no longer sufficient to distract her from the memories creeping up on her; with an explosive sigh, she drops the datapad on the desk and stands, stretches out muscles cramped from hours of sitting in one position.
She needs to move.
Her 'sabers seem less intimidating, today, and she no longer feels the Dark whenever she touches them. Part of her wonders if this means the Son was influencing her. The rest of her is just grateful.
She swings by the mess to grab some lunch, listens as Fives recounts his woeful tale of attempting to flirt with Master Unduli on Coruscant. Apparently, the others sitting with them have heard the tale at least three times, now, because Tup spends the entire story muttering Master Unduli's dialogue under his breath. Ahsoka laughs (it really is amusing), offers her advice of seeking out Master Quinlan Vos next time, and politely excuses herself from the conversation. Today is a better day, certainly (and she attributes a good chunk of that to the fact she'd woken up still cocooned in Rex's protective embrace), but there's only so much time she can spend with the troops before she gets overwhelmed.
She makes her way to the salle, draws her 'sabers, and takes a deep breath, centering herself in the Force. For the first time, her connection to the Force feels strong and true, warm and alive, and she finds herself laughing, flooded with sheer joy.
(The memories try to come back, dark and full of pain and panic, but Ahsoka wears the Force like a cloak, like a shield, like armor, and for now, at least, she is safe.)
Smiling, Ahsoka settles into a stance and begins.
...
Soka's mind feels safe and almost happy, and Rex doesn't want to interrupt her forms, but he's lost and the memories won't stop playing over and over in his head and he wants her. So he goes into the salle after knocking twice, barely blinks as Ahsoka's yellow saber hums past his face. She finds that funny, he thinks, acting like she doesn't know he's walked in.
"Hello to you too, Soka," he says lightly, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall.
"Hey, Rexter." She twirls her sabers and pivots, slashing both weapons down toward the floor. "Anakin finally caught you, huh?"
"Yeah." Rex holds his shields around his and Anakin's conversation, because there's so much there Ahsoka doesn't need to see.
"What did he want?" she asks.
Rex prides himself on how smoothly he lies, although he feels guilty. "I kriffed up an inspection and we got about a dozen extra sets of armor."
He thinks Ahsoka believes him. "That is pretty bad," she says, snorting. "He's not that mad at you though, right?"
"No." Rex can't believe it, that Anakin doesn't seem to blame him for any of it.
"So you ate lunch in a closet for nothing."
Rex grumbles, wishing she hadn't noticed that. "Apparently, yes." He hesitates, watches her leap into a somersault, can't help but admire the easy grace of her movements. "I keep seeing it today, Soka." It's still hard to admit that, and he knows she understands.
She stops, turns to him, and shuts off her sabers. He looks down, ostensibly to peer at a smudge of paint on the back of his hand, actually because he feels guilty for bringing up all the pain and darkness when she's feeling happy.
She startles him by putting her arms around his waist, pulling him close. She soothes over the images he's been trying so hard to avoid, and he shivers. He wishes she wouldn't look at them - he doesn't want her getting lost in those same memories.
The worst now is the memory of Ahsoka screaming on the ground and not being able to reach her, not being able to even stand for the pain. Her screams and sobs seem stuck in his ears, and he wants it to go away because she's fine and safe now, but it feels like he has to run to her still, has to fix everything.
Ahsoka reaches up and puts her arms around his neck (and her fingers brush lightly against his scar). I'm right here, Rex.
"I'm sorry," he says, although he knows she doesn't like when he apologizes. "I wanted to help you, I tried, but I couldn't." I failed you , and he hears Anakin telling him neither of them failed, but if anyone knew .
"I didn't want to give up, Soka, but they just kept hurting you and the colonists and… and me and I'm not strong enough, I'm sorry."
...
Ahsoka tightens her arms around Rex, gently runs her fingers over the thick band of scars around his neck. "You didn't fail, me or anyone else, Rexter," she says softly, swallowing at the depth of pain his words reveal. She surrounds him in warmth, strength and love and soothing forgiveness. "I know you wanted to help."
She closes her eyes, rests her head against his chest, even though his armor is hard and a bit uncomfortable under her cheek. She's not sure howto reassure him, how to get him to understand that she doesn't blame him, no one does. Kadavo wasn't their fault, even though on the worse days it feels like it. "Nobody's strong enough for that hell," and today's a good enough day she even believes herself when she says it. "Kadavo was designed to break Jedi Masters."
Rex doesn't respond aloud, but she catches an impression of a thought that's the vague equivalent of so?
She pulls back, stares up at him. "To become a Jedi Master, you've got to have an incredibly strong will, Rex. Like Master Yoda levels." Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but still. "Neither of us are anywhere near that."
Rex feels thoughtful, and Ahsoka hopes that means he's at least considering the idea.
...
Rex doesn't know how to explain that it doesn't matter, in a way, what Kadavo was designed for, whether it was his fault or not, because it had still made him into someone he hates, and he's afraid the cowardly part of him is here for good, afraid there will always be something in him that can't leave Kadavo.
He'd fallen short of everything he was supposed to be and he doesn't know where that leaves him.
"I was a coward, Soka," he says softly, resting his hands on her hips, letting gratitude for her closeness bleed through the bond. "I can't forget that, and it doesn't change just because it wasn't 'my fault.' I still chose, I still- I really gave up. I didn't have to, but I…" He doesn't know how to say what he means, but he knows he shattered when he could have pushed through, could have been a proper soldier and compartmentalized and dealt with it that way. He knows she sees those thoughts.
The rest of the admission still chokes him, and he swallows, tightens his shields around it.
...
"Rex…"
Ahsoka swallows, falls silent. What is there to say? To a soldier, to a clone especially, giving up is-huge. Even if no one else blames him, he still blames himself. You aren't superhuman, Rex, she tells him, even though she knows it won't make a difference.
It doesn't.
In fact, his thoughts are continuing to spiral-he feels selfish, like by giving up he's somehow left behind all the principles, all the morals the vod'e live by-and Ahsoka realizes, sickened, that her attempts at helping him justify his actions have just been making things worse. He keeps apologizing and she doesn't think he did anything wrong, doesn't think he has anything to apologize for, but Rex believes it and…
Oh, Rex, and she traces his cheekbones before sliding her hands to the back of his head, pulling his forehead down to rest against hers. I forgive you, Rex, for everything, and I'm sorry I broke. I'm sorry I failed you and pushed you too far and used the Dark Side. I was-a terrible Jedi, but I promise I'm going to be better, for you. She hadn't really meant to apologize, herself-Rex needs comfort, needs support, needs help, and her own issues aren't helping, but…
She holds Rex close to her, pushes comfort and love at him, closes her eyes and just breathes.
...
I don't need you to be better, he thinks, adds privately that he needs to be better, needs to find a way to live up to what she, and his men, and his General all believe he is. Maybe that will be enough someday, pretending. He runs his hand up her spine, lets himself respond to her apology instead of worrying more about himself. The mess in his head is too much to deal with, too much to look at. Bad Jedi or not, you're more than good enough for me. He tries for humor, finds he's too bitter to manage it: Certainly too good for the Jedi Council .
Ahsoka's response is a sort of reprimand, although he can tell she appreciates the comment nonetheless. Well, I don't need you to be better either,she thinks, pressing against his thoughts and shields a little. He pushes her back without thinking it through, and he probably deserves the look she gives him.
"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't lower his shields, and he can't think of anything else to say. He didn't want to do this again but he doesn't know how to explain everything to her - and he has to admit, he mostly doesn't want to try.
"It doesn't matter," she says, and kriff , she sounds hurt, and frustrated. "We said we'd be honest with each other, Rex, but it's fine."
It's true, he'd made her promise, as good as promised himself, but he still bristles at the comment, has to stifle a sharp response as she pulls out of his arms and leaves the salle without another word; when he tries to push some better apology at her thoughts her shields don't let it through. He swears softly and goes back to the barracks to spend some time with his men. Although he's certain Fives is going to want to talk about Ahsoka and their relationship, which he (unfortunately) now has confirmation of. That will be better than being by himself, though.
...
Ahsoka leaves the salle in a huff, frustrated and bitter and unreasonably angry. She knows Rex just isn't ready to talk about, well, anything… but he's being dishonest with her now (lying about what he and Anakin talked about isn't huge, even though it bothers her a bit-he's keeping the conversation so tightly shielded she knows it wasn't about whatever requisition mistake he claimed to make-it's the way he won't be honest about his feelings, about how Kadavo affected him, still affects him), and he'd promised.
Maybe not promised outright, in words, but he'd implied it, and she's surprised at how hurt she is, how betrayed she feels.
Rex tries to reach out to her across their bond, but she tightens her shields, doesn't let him through. She doesn't want more useless, pointless apologies, not right now.
But she doesn't want to be alone, either, and she knows he'll go back to the barracks, so spending time with the men is out (not that she's really in the mood to try and deal with that many people anymore). She hesitates, considers comming Barriss (but for all the friendship between them, Barriss is too much a true Jedi to understand), and dismisses the idea almost immediately.
Ashoka sighs explosively, grumbling very privately about clones and ridiculously uptight Captains, doesn't really pay any attention to where her feet take her; when she looks up from the floor and realizes she's standing in front of Anakin's door, she hesitates. She's not sure she's ready for this conversation, for all that it's been a long time coming.
But Rex is shutting her out, withdrawing even though she's practically begged him not to, and so she lifts one hand and knocks on the door, tries to pretend her hands aren't trembling.
The door hisses open almost before her knuckles even touch the durasteel. "Snips?"
Anakin stands there, staring at her, eyes wide and worried, unsure. She musters a smile, faint and wan though it is. "Hey, Skyguy."
It's the first time she's used her nickname for him since Kadavo, she realizes-and he knows, too, if the shocked look on his face is anything to go by. "What's wrong, Snips? Uh, you can come in?"
She has to smile a bit more earnestly at that. "Nothing's wrong," which is such a lie she doesn't even know where to begin, "I just wanted to talk."
Anakin closes the door behind her, gestures to the chair in front of his desk. "Sit down," he says, dropping to sit cross-legged on his bed. "What's up?"
This is it-it's now or never. Ahsoka knows, instinctively, that if she redirects the conversation now, if she avoids him, avoids this, she'll never get the courage to come back. So she takes a deep breath, steels herself. "Kadavo," she says, and watches him still. "I want to tell you about Kadavo, Master, and-and then I want to know what happened to you, and why you aren't okay, either."
Anakin takes a shaky breath, surprised, and manages a faint smile. "I'd like that, Snips."
And she's scared, but Anakin-her Master, her big brother in a way-is projecting warmth and comfort and strength, and she lets that wrap around her, give her the strength she needs to speak. "We woke up on a ship-Rex and I, and the Togrutan governor, I mean," and she's already shaking, kriff, not good. "With collars on… they brought us out of the ship and in front of the command center, and Keeper Agruss made a speech about how it wasn't me who would suffer for my defiance," and she spits the word like it's poison. "And then he-I don't know, pressed a button or something, and seven colonists, seven of my people, the floor disappeared from under them and they fell."
Anakin draws in a sharp breath, pats the bed gently-she hears the unspoken invitation, leaves the chair to curl into his side.
"They would punish me, too, but there was always another slave there, or Rex, and I tried to help them but every time I did they just got hurt worse." And kriff, but she's crying; Anakin starts rubbing his hand in soothing circles on her back. "They figured out on the second day that Rex and I were more compliant when they threatened the other, but before that. That morning. There was a boy, younger than me, and he fell and I helped him up and-"
She can't breathe, remembering the utter horror on his face when his collar kicked in, remembering how he screamed and thrashed like a fish out of water, mouth gaping open and closed as he struggled for oxygen. "They killed him because of me!" she cries out, sickened (she'd as good askilled him herself), nausea rising inside her like a wave, and she has to fling herself off the bed, sprint into the 'fresher and vomit. (She feels Anakin's hands gentle on her front headtails as he holds them out of the way, and she thinks he might be crying.)
"Easy, Snips," he murmurs, "it's okay, you're okay."
"I didn't even know his name," she chokes out, gratefully accepting the glass of water Anakin hands her and rinsing her mouth out. "The Son had to tell me, how awful is that?" She lifts one hand, forestalling an answer. "And then, in the control room, I-gave in, Master, I used the Dark Side, I almost killed an unarmed man in cold blood."
She waits for him to condemn her, but instead he does something very different. "A couple years ago, I was having dreams of my mother, suffering horribly. For the longest time I did nothing, but while I was assigned to protect Padmè during the attempts on her life, I had to go. She'd been sold to another man who freed her and married her, but she'd disappeared a month before. I refused to believe she was dead." He hesitates, swallows, and she can see self-hatred and guilt thick and choking in his blue eyes. "She'd been taken by Tusken raiders. I found her, cut her down from the frame they'd tied her to, and she died in my arms. It was the first time I'd seen her since I was nine years old. And then, Snips, do you want to know what I did next?" There's so much grief in his face she can barely breathe. "I killed every single one of the Tuskens. Men, women, children-I slaughtered them. Like animals. I hated them, and I hated myself, because all that violence, all that rage, and it couldn't bring my mother back. All my Jedi training couldn't save her. I couldn't save her."
"Anakin," Ahsoka breathes, torn between shock and intense understanding, "I'm sorry."
He smiles, twisted and rueful, more a grimace than anything else. "No, I'm the one who's sorry, Snips. You're a better Jedi than I'll ever be," and he wraps her in a hug. "I'm so sorry I couldn't save you," he whispers.
Ahsoka smiles into his chest, though she's still softly crying. "Master, I think you just did."
...
That night, Rex leaves Fives and Jesse unhappily scrubbing a mountain of dishes and goes back to his quarters to sleep. Being with his men had distracted him, but almost the moment he's alone again, the heaviness is back.
He doesn't deserve his men's trust and care, not even Fives' (who had been unbelievable this evening), and he's tired of putting on a bold face and smiling and shielding and lying.
But the truth would be harder to give them.
He goes into his quarters, strips off his armor and boots, and picks up his datapad where he'd left it on the one small table he has in his room. He has reports to read over and he might as well do it in relative comfort. He drops onto his bed with a groan and pulls up the first report on his screen. Truly fascinating reading - but at least it's a distraction.
He actually gets absorbed enough in his task that he's startled when there's a light knock on his door. He blinks and sits up, setting down his datapad. "Come in," he says. He's a clone, and just a Captain at that - he doesn't get a lock on his door.
It's Ahsoka. He stiffens when he sees her, tentatively reaches for her mind and finds she reluctantly lets him in. He pulls down most of his own shields, just leaves up and hides the more important ones.
"Hey, Soka," he says carefully.
"Hi," she answers, wrapping her arms around her stomach. "I don't want to sleep alone."
He's glad she came - he hadn't really wanted to be alone either. "Okay." He lays back down, scoots to the side of his bed close to the wall and picks up his datapad again. Ahsoka walks over, her footsteps silent - she's barefoot - and climbs onto the bed with him, grabbing his blanket and pulling it up to her chin. She shifts so her feet press against his and he grumbles quietly because her feet are cold . He thinks she still seems upset at him and he sighs, feeling guilty, but not enough to bring any of it up again. "I'm almost done with this report," he says. "Then I'll go to sleep."
She hums acknowledgement and closes her eyes. Her feet are too cold on his so he shifts away from them and sends her an annoyed really?
...
Ahsoka hums, presses closer to Rex, tucking her head beneath his chin; his arms wrap around her and he continues messing with his datapad behind her back. He's annoyed by her cold feet, but she could really care less.
Plus, she's still annoyed with him, so she's happening to take a sort of perverse pleasure in his discomfort.
Rex presses a kiss to the top of her head, between her montrals, and she hums in pleasure and presses closer. I'm still mad at you, she tells him, but she doesn't think he's very convinced.
I'm sure you are, he responds dryly, an undercurrent of amusement in his mental voice. Go to sleep, Soka.
After a few hours of training with Anakin, not to mention the draining, emotional conversation beforehand, she's tired enough not to argue. So she slips her cold feet between his calves (ignoring his hiss of displeasure), seeking warmth, and lets herself slide into sleep.
...
As soon as Rex doesn't have reports or Ahsoka or his men or anything else to distract him, the memories tear out of the dark like Loth wolves, in vivid, inescapable detail. He'd hoped that they would lessen after talking to Anakin and Ahsoka, but although there had been a certain relief in that, here he is again, drowning.
There's so much he can't shake but it's Ahsoka's pain that taunts him now, accompanied by memories of that voice from the night before. He owes her better than he's given her but he will not let them see what he is.
Not even her, if she really doesn't know.
He shifts where he lays, holds Ahsoka tighter to block it out. But he can't, it all flashes in the dark in front of his eyes.
His Jedi being led into the arena, bent over with pain and exhaustion, and the horror of realizing they can't win against all the slavers.
Trying to save Ahsri and the others and getting them whipped instead, and her still helping them later, even though he'd caused her pain.
Ahsoka's far away thoughts after they'd tried to fight and how selfishly he'd protested that he couldn't fight again, even though she needed him. How she took his pain, worked herself too hard, and he could only think about himself, dream for himself.
Her falling into his arms when the guard lashed her across the headtails, her screams cutting off because she couldn't anymore.
Rex tries closing his eyes, tries controlling and shutting down those thoughts, but they're well out of his control and he's starting to feel sick, hot with shame.
He begs her to just obey and survive (to not make them hurt him again, please) and she listens, tells Anakin he has to go. He shouldn't care about his own pain but he does and he's so so afraid they'll shock him again and he knows he'd beg, knows he'd grovel like a beaten dog and he just doesn't want any more of this.
He can't stay here, he can't stay still. Cursing, he carefully eases his arms away from Ahsoka, sits up and climbs over her legs, off the bed. She feels like she's still asleep, from what he can tell, so he pulls on his boots and a minimum of armor, straps on his gun belt, and leaves his room.
Maybe if he runs a few simulations he can tire himself out enough to sleep.
He lets the system choose its own settings, steps out onto the floor behind an obstacle, and raises his blasters. His heart pounds and he knows already he's going to freeze.
The simulation begins, guard towers going up on the sides of the arena, a maze-like set of walls going up, his target not even in sight. Other than the droids in the turrets, he doesn't see any others - they're probably waiting behind the walls.
He does fine to start, pushes past his fear and takes out the guns in the towers, the droids too, and starts for the combined safety and danger of the maze. But crouched behind a wall, he can hear the clankers but not see them, and light is dim and he can't kriffing focus when he stops moving. In the stillness the clankers' footsteps turn into pickaxes on stone and Rex growls , jumps up and runs into the maze because if he just keeps moving he's fine. Except now he can't calculate fast enough and he runs straight into a small squad of droids, has to dive away, forget about shooting back, just get out of the line of fire. Sloppy. Kriff it. From his new position he can take them out fairly fast, but he can't stay here either because if he stops he's going to freeze.
His next mistake he isn't so lucky; he forgets to watch behind him until it's too late (he shouldn't be this kriffing careless) and three droids shoot him; the stinging training bolts singe his back and shoulders and the sim shuts down.
"Simulation failed."
" Kriff! " He rolls his shoulders, storms back to the edge of the arena and resets the simulation to something hard.
His stomach twists and his heart pounds and the images won't go away.
I can't do a next time, Ahsoka.
I'm not fighting, I won't.
The simulation has two stories this time, with a bunch of destroyers firing down on him, and he swears because he really isn't prepared for this sim but he tries anyway, sticking to the limited cover this arena has, leaving his blasters in their holsters.
He thinks he hears someone scream and whips around without thinking, leaving his back exposed - the simulation ends again with stinging bolts singing his back and he can't believe this.
"Simulation failed."
Why can't he do this anymore, he's kriffing safe now, isn't he? Isn't that what he wanted so badly, to stay safe? Well he has it now, he's fine, they aren't hurting him or Ahsoka anymore, so where does that leave him?
...
Ahsoka wakes up the second Rex gets up and starts putting on his armor, but she stays still, hoping he'll give up and come back to bed.
He doesn't, instead leaving the room; she swears, opens her eyes, and climbs out of the bed, grabbing her sabers. He's in such emotional turmoil he's forgetting to shield, and she picks up that his intention is to go run sims until he collapses from exhaustion. (She knows he has yet to successfully complete one, and that he's increasingly more frustrated and upset at himself about that.)
She arrives in the doorway just as he starts the first simulation, and he doesn't even make it halfway through. He immediately starts another one, fails within the first minute this time, swearing and angry, all that anger and self-loathing directed at himself. He's constantly hating himself for giving up, for not being able to fight, and she'd known it was bad but she didn't realize it was this bad.
"Rex, this isn't working. You're just making yourself worse," she says, stepping into the room.
(It's only when Rex startles violently that she realizes she probably should've made a noise or something before speaking.)
...
Rex's first thought is that he doesn't want her here and he slams up shields, suddenly intensely aware of what a kriffing mess he is. "It helps," he snaps, wanting to run back to his bunk and force his thoughts into some kind of order but he can't. "I've been training, it makes it easier; I'm just tired right now."
She crosses her arms, gives him a disbelieving look. "Come on , Rex. You've been running simulations ever since we got back from Coruscant. Can't you just talk to me?"
He hadn't thought she'd known about that and it suddenly occurs to him that she must know he's failed every kriffing sim he's attempted. The accompanying rush of shame makes him grit his teeth, force out, "What's there to talk about? I'm going to figure this out, I don't need- I'm fine, so you can go back to bed."
" Shavit , Rex!" Ahsoka sounds less frustrated than worried - but she does still sound frustrated. "This isn't helping you, you're just getting more upset every time you don't complete a sim."
It's true and he kriffing hates that it's true. What else is he supposed to do? "And?" he hisses. "If I can't figure this out, I'll fail my men. I'll get reassigned or sent back to Kamino for reconditioning." This is the one thing he has to be able to do and he can't .
...
"Rex, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over again and expecting different results." Ahsoka huffs out a frustrated sigh. "Neither Anakin nor I have any intention of letting that happen, but you have to let us help you!"
"Maybe I don't want your help," Rex snaps, and she knows he's upset, he's emotional, but kriff the comment still hurts.
"Please, Rex," she says, "don't shut me out. Don't hide from me. This is the same thing that happened after Umbara," and shavit, she's starting to cry. "Why won't you just talk?"
...
He takes a step back, makes himself be less angry, although it's hard. She wasn't supposed to know about all this, about how he keeps failing and how he panics every time he tries to fight. "It isn't about you, Ahsoka. I can't." Even with the feelings pulsing in his mind and the words trying to crawl up his throat he can't tell her this .
"Why not?" she pushes, and her anger is fast being eclipsed by concern and disappointment. He feels stiff and frozen, angry and tired and useless.
"It doesn't matter," he says, pulling back, shutting down automatically.
She doesn't let him. "It really kriffing does, Rex."
Of course it matters why he can't talk to her, he knows that. It's just all so tangled and if he starts talking he doesn't think he can stop. He curls his hands into fists, feels his nails digging into his skin. He can't look at her.
"Can't you please trust me, Rex?" she says, and he shakes his head.
"It isn't like that, I don't- I told you, I'm not strong enough for-" Not strong enough to see what she'll think of him. "I'm sorry." He shakes his head again, because he just wants to go back to his bunk, just wants to stop this.
Her thoughts go distant, suddenly, and she looks at him like she's horribly disappointed, like she can't believe he's doing this.
You want to kriffing stop it, then do something.
She starts to turn away and he knows, suddenly, that if he doesn't act this time he'll really have failed her, really be a coward. He reaches out, grabs her elbow, fights down nausea and panic. "I don't want you to hate me, Soka."
...
Ahsoka doesn't know why she reacts the way she does, but it's an instinct she can't quite shake; she twists her arm out of his grip, turns back to the door. "I'll never be able to hate you, Rex, and you know that, so please stop making excuses."
She wants to throw herself into his arms, to have him hold her tight and whisper that everything'll be alright, but she knows that's a lie, that's just delaying the inevitable, because nothing is alright anymore. Kadavo was awful in every sense of the word, a literal hell, but at least while they were there she felt like Rex trusted her.
And now?
Now it just feels like… there's a distance, and she's been reaching for him, and instead of trying to reach back for her he hides away, like he's trying to push her away. There was a time when she thought she knew everything would be alright, in the end, even though that didn't seem possible, because she had Rex by her side.
But now he's gone, he's pulled away from her, he's left her alone. (She can't even reach him, through their bond, and she has the horrifying thought that maybe he regrets it, regrets this, all of it. After all, who would want a defective Jedi Padawan who isn't even allowed to love?) She can't even pretend to understand what's gone wrong, not truly, and the only thing she can think is she needs Anakin, he'll fix this, he'll make it right,somehow, because he always does.
Ahsoka keeps herself from dissolving into sobs with a herculean force of will, though she can't completely keep the tears from her cheeks. And, of course, she knows her headtails are showing just how hurt and sad and tired she is right now (she's a huntress, her heart has chosen Rex as her mate, that's not something that's easily broken), but she doubts Rex can read that language. (Anakin can, somehow, she's never bothered to ask him why.)
She swallows, takes a careful breath that catches in her throat. "Just do me a favor, Rex-next time, don't say you love someone unless you really do," and she starts walking, because she can't do this anymore, she can't be here trying to see past the layers of shields, the lies, the half-truths, trying to figure out what's wrong and never communicating. She can't, and maybe that's a weakness, that she just isn't good enough to fix this on her own, or maybe it's the Force telling her she's not allowed to act on her feelings (because she loves him, that's not going to just go away),which, well… is possible, she supposes distantly.
She keeps walking, one foot in front of the other (she just has to make it to Anakin's room, then she can fall apart, then she can shatter), one step at a time.
...
Rex has been clinging to his armor and blacks and shields and fake smiles and duties ever since Kadavo, but in a horrible moment it all fractures and he's staring at Ahsoka's back and for all his efforts to make sure she can't hate him, she's leaving anyway.
Something in him crumples, and he thinks he'd rather have her know it all and hate him for that than leave thinking he doesn't care, doesn't trust her.
So with a tremor in his hands and a feeling of inevitability he demolishes his shields, even the smallest and most inconsequential, and reaches , taking several long, fast strides towards her.
The truth rips out of him, easier than he'd dreaded, almost too easy. "I was going to let you fight alone."
She stops, and although suddenly he feels sick and terrified he keeps going, has to. "In the command center, when you said we had to fight to save your people, I was never going to help." His heart is pounding too fast. "I didn't break because of you or the colonists, I broke because it hurt and I didn't want it to hurt anymore." He's wanted to pretend there had been something noble in it all, but there hadn't been, it had just been him, wishing it would all end. He wants to put his shields back up because he can feel her reaching back, pressing lightly into his mind like she's trying to figure him out, but he doesn't. He feels like someone has cut his supports and he sways, feels like crumbling. "I'm supposed to protect, that's all I know ," he says, voice breaking. "But all I wanted to do was protect myself and that's what I still am, Ahsoka. That's why I couldn't talk to you, because I wanted… to protect myself."
He goes silent, although that's worse because if he isn't speaking she might leave. Had she known she loved a coward or had he fooled her as thoroughly as he'd fooled everyone else?
...
Ahsoka stands there, frozen in place-she can barely even manage to overcome her shock enough to take advantage of the fact that all his shields are down. She can't speak, can't breathe enough to form words, and she just-she wants to understand. So she reaches out, slips through his mind with a strange ease (he hasn't been this open to her since they left the pit behind), sees the memories of Kadavo, of the command center, of just trying to survive.
He's panicking behind her and she knows she should turn, should do something, should say something but she doesn't even know what to say, because-because-
"I never expected you to," she chokes out, still not moving (she can't). "To fight. It was your choice, I would've protected you either way…" and that's not helping but she doesn't know what to say, she doesn't know how to fix this. "How could I? I couldn't ask you to fight, not again."
She wants Anakin, she wants Padme-she wants someone who can make this better, who will know the words to say-but there's no one, just her. She's alone and she doesn't know what to do.
"You shouldn't have had to ask," Rex says, his voice as jagged-edged as she feels, and for some reason that undoes her.
"You're a person, not a droid," she says, finally manages to turn, to stare at him, "you can't always fight." And she wishes, for once, that she had bothered to learn something besides fighting, because maybe then she would know the right words, she'd be able to understand, but she's a warrior and she's never been one for tact. (And she's still crying, can't seem to stop, which only makes this worse. She kriffing hates crying.) "A-all I wanted was for you to trust me, Rex, to trust in the fact that I love you."
...
He's sinking in on himself, feels his shoulders curving forward, his chest tightening. But he thinks from what he feels of her thoughts that she doesn't hate him (of course she doesn't) and it's a relief, a weight gone.
"I did," he says softly, his voice sounding hollow to his own ears. "But you… I didn't think you loved a coward, you thought- I don't want to be this, Ahsoka, I want to be what you think I am but I'm not. I thought I was but I… Kriff, Soka, I don't know."
He's not at all what he thought he was and it hurts .
...
She tries to keep her distance, because she still might have to go, if this doesn't get fixed-if she can't figure things out, what other choice will she have?-but the raw anguish on Rex's face and in his mind pulls on her, calls to her, and before she really can think about it she's stepping closer to him again (like a wandering planet drawn back into orbit around its star). One hand lifts of its own accord, comes to rest on his cheek, runs lightly over his skin, over the lines of his jaw and cheekbones.
"You're right in one thing," Ahsoka says, very softly, and she hopes he doesn't misunderstand her. "I don't love a coward." She gives that just a moment to sink in, then continues. "I-you're one of the strongest, most courageous men I've ever met, Rex, Jedi or Senator or clone or anyone. I don't love you because you're some kind of perfect soldier, and if you decided tomorrow that you couldn't fight a seemingly pointless war no one wants anymore, if you told me you wanted to leave, I'd go with you."
...
Rex leans against her hand, still finds he's scared to meet her eyes because he shouldn't get to do that. "What if I'm not?" he whispers, reaching up and putting his hand over hers, leaving it at that.
Ahsoka hesitates, and he has to meet her eyes, has to press close to her thoughts to reassure himself. "You are though, Rex," she says, simply. "At least, you want to be, and always try to be, and I think… I think it's the same thing."
He closes his eyes and swallows, turning his head to press a kiss to the palm of her hand. It shouldn't feel so important, what she's said, but he's been so tired , trying to hold it together for so long, and he wants her to be right. "I'm sorry, Ahsoka," he says, and she deserves this apology, because whatever he wishes he'd done he's been lying and hiding for a long time.
He feels his eyes sting with tears and he's shaking and he just wants to rest, after all this.
...
"I know you are," Ahsoka whispers, has to close her eyes a moment against a new wave of tears, because she can finally feel him again, right there next to her mind like he belongs, and she hadn't even realized how much was missing until it's all back. "I forgive you, Rex, I always do." There's a pause, and she feels how tired he is, how tired she is, too; she moves her hand from his cheek to the back of his head, stands up on her toes and brings him down to press a gentle kiss to his lips.
He's just staring at her, in awe and apology and there're tears there, too, and she wipes one away as it begins to fall. "You aren't alone," she tells him, hopes maybe he understands. "Come back home."
Because home isn't a place, not anymore, not for her; home is wherever he is. And she wants him to understand, to see that-to know, so she shows him, soft and careful, and then she takes his hand and leads him from the training arena.
He doesn't protest, follows her without complaint as she takes him back to his quarters, helps him tug off the armor he'd donned earlier, set his blasters down on the floor. "I missed you," she breathes, pulling him into a tight embrace the instant he's in just his blacks; she presses her montrals against his chest, listens to the sound of his heart beating strong and steady in his chest. It's been too long since she could feel him like this. Too long.
Please don't go away like that again, she begs him silently, because she doesn't know if she can do this again.
...
I won't, he says, dares to add, I promise . He chases the love and forgiveness he feels in her thoughts, thinks he's probably leaning on her too much. But he's tired and the memories still won't quite leave him alone, so he kisses the top of her head and pulls partway free of her arms to go back to bed. She hangs onto his waist and comes with him, and he knows she can tell he's more or less relying on her support to stay in one piece.
She pulls the blanket over both of them, and he puts his arm around her, pulls her flush against his chest and kisses her forehead, the tear stains on her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispers again, even though he doesn't really have to. She sticks his cold feet against his legs again and he grumbles softly, curves his hand over the back of her montrals where he can feel the ridges of scars.
"I know, I forgive you," she answers, waves of soft certainty easing into his thoughts. He feels exhausted and vulnerable and small, but she's here and all his fears were so stupid and for once he feels like this might all still be okay.
He feels her suddenly notice his conversation with Anakin and she pauses on that for a little too long and he can tell she's not happy with him, at all. So he pushes the desperate promise he'd given Anakin at her, says, Please wait till tomorrow and let me explain then.
...
Okay, Ahsoka agrees, because he said he'd explain and she has to trust he will. And it does bother her, a little, that he'd made the promise-that he'd told Anakin about her, about her using the Dark Side, without asking, but…
But she does understand why he'd made the promise, at least, and Anakin isn't the type to let something like that go, so… so she can wait until tomorrow, can let Rex explain.
The memory of the conversation with Anakin leads back to a memory she can't place, even though she's in it: she sees herself, sitting in Anakin's bed-taunting him? A wave of revulsion sluices over her as she realizes it's the Son, using her to try and get to her Master once again, just like on Mortis. So this is what was happening while she was trapped inside that awful endless nothing, she muses, while the Son was suffocating her. (She knows Rex can see those memories, if he looks, can see everything, including the conversation she'd had with Anakin just a few hours ago, but the prospect has never bothered her. She trusts him, after all.)
...
Rex wakes up from a deeply restful sleep, slowly, like he does when he's certain he's safe. He stretches, and his hand connects with someone's leg. Right, Ahsoka. He cracks his eyes open and presses his mind against hers to see if she's awake. "Good morning," he mumbles, running his hand over his head. There's a frankly horrible taste in his mouth and his head hurts but he's too lazy to care. Ahsoka feels kind of impatient and he opens his eyes wider, turns his head to look at her. She's sitting up and giving him a look and it makes him just anxious enough that he pushes himself up onto his elbows. "Something wrong, Soka?" His voice is rough with sleep and dehydration and he clears his throat.
"I just want to make sure you aren't going to run off and hide in a maintenance closet again," she says, dryly, and he groans.
"I'm not going to," he grumbles, sitting up the rest of the way. He can't help but think to himself that he was not hiding in the closet yesterday, and he knows Ahsoka hear that because she snorts, disbelieving. "Although I am going to the 'fresher."
He slides out of bed, hissing as his bare feet meet the metal floor, and walks away, his still-drowsy thoughts mostly grumbling ones.
(There's nervousness there too, about talking to her, but he ignores that. He doesn't have the energy for it.)
He washes his face and swallows enough water to get rid of the bad taste in his mouth - the cool water on his face helps his headache a little, but not much. When he walks back into his room, Ahsoka is sitting cross-legged and expectant on his bed, one eyebrow arched at him.
...
"So," Ahsoka starts, when it's clear Rex isn't going to just volunteer the information. "It's tomorrow." Rex smiles a little at that, a so it is feeling crossing the bond, and she rolls her eyes. "You said you'd explain that conversation with Anakin. The one you lied to me about."
She's not happy about this. She's really not. Even though she feels lighter this morning than she has in weeks, even though she finally feels like maybe healing isn't so impossible now.
"I did," Rex agrees, sitting down on the bed across from her. He looks tired, although she thinks maybe not quite as bad as he did yesterday.
He takes a moment to collect his thoughts, and Ahsoka forces herself not to fidget. She can be patient, she can wait. Really. Honestly.
...
When Rex thinks about it, he's sure his reasons are going to sound flimsy at best, and he really doesn't want to say them out loud - but he promised, and she's upset and he owes her this. He'd known telling Anakin wasn't really a good plan at the time but, well. "General Skywalker got distracted," he says, sighing and twisting his hand into the blanket so he can sit still. "You were gone and the Son kept taunting him and telling him you didn't trust him and said you used the Dark Side, and the General got stuck on it." Rex doesn't really blame him but it had happened anyway, at the worst possible time. "I couldn't do anything , Soka, and I was terrified and then the General wasn't focusing and I just wanted him to get the Son out of you."
He can't figure out what Ahsoka is thinking; she looks and feels like she's carefully reserving judgement until he's finished talking, and he rubs his eyes with one hand. "I'm sorry, Soka, I didn't think. I just… you really hadn't told him anything and he was worried and we couldn't feel you. And then I thought maybe it would help, if he knew."
Maybe he'd thought a little that if he told Anakin about Ahsoka, and by extension, himself, it would make everything better. He's not sure, but he'd promised in the heat of the moment and most everything after that is just his own justification of the promise. "I thought he deserved to know, I guess, I- I didn't know how to help you with the Force and I thought he could."
...
Ahsoka tilts her head to one side, considering. It makes sense; really, she's not all that upset about his promise, or the fact that he upheld his promise. "You did what you needed to do to get Anakin to focus, and I can't fault you for that," she tells him. "I just don't understand why you lied about it. Why didn't you just tell me? I knew the excuse you gave me was a lie, because of how tightly you shielded the memory."
Rex shifts his weight, like he's uncomfortable, and she can feel him force himself not to fidget. "I…" and he actually looks sheepish, "I was afraid of how you'd react-I didn't want you to hate me, Soka."
That seems to be a reoccurring theme, she projects dryly, amused despite the seriousness of the conversation. Aloud, she adds, "I hope you've figured out by now that you don't have to worry about me hating you."
Rex smiles, rueful. "I think so." I don't deserve you, his thoughts echo, and she doesn't think he meant for her to hear but she can't help but pick up on it.
She has no idea how to help, how to fix this misconception of his, so instead, she sends back, No, you don't. You deserve every single word of the scolding you're going to get as soon as the vod'e hear of this.
(Her face is completely straight, but she can't quite keep the amusement from projecting with her words.)
(She can't wait to see the look on his face when Fives shows up.)
...
Ah, kriff. Rex thinks the curse strongly , and she laughs out loud. He doesn't want to tell his vod'e about this any more than he'd wanted to tell her - they rely on him, trust him, especially after Umbara, and he does not want to shake that trust. He's not being proud when he says they need him - he's their brother and their Captain and he has always, always looked out for them even when nobody else did.
He's never going to let them down, not if he can help it, and he wants them to know that.
"You're asking a lot of me in a very short amount of time," he says, wishes it didn't bother him so much.
"I'm not asking," she says, and that makes him feel more bitter than it really should. He crosses his arms, leans back a little, and tries very hard not to look as frustrated as he feels.
"It isn't like with you, Soka, they have to have confidence in me or we can't fight," he says. "When it comes down to it, it's my job to keep them safe, and they have to believe I'm going to do that."
"They do," she says, crossing her arms too and projecting frustration. "We all know that , Rex, and you have to trust them with some of this."
"I don't want to jeopardize unit cohesion," he snaps, and something warm and sharp in his gut says he's making excuses . But he already had trouble facing his men after Umbara and he doesn't know how he can after this. "They shouldn't have to be worrying about me and whether I'm going to freeze or panic or give up, Ahsoka, it doesn't make sense."
"Well, they're all worrying about you anyway, you know."
He swears again, out loud this time, because he knows that, but he doesn't want to sit down with the people he protects and tell them he's selfish , that's just kriffing stupid. They deserve better than that.
He opens his mouth to protest again but is cut off by a loud knock on his door; he recognizes the knock, knows it's a brother. He turns, swings his legs out of the bed so it at least looks like he and Ahsoka could have been having a casual conversation (although there's little chance that Fives hasn't already told the entire battalion that he was right and their Captain and Commander are an item).
"Come in," he calls, and the door slides open to reveal the devil himself, Fives, eyebrows drawn together in an expression that Rex instantly knows means trouble. Kix, standing behind him, doesn't look much happier.
"You wanted to talk to me, sir?" Fives says, and Rex definitely did not . Kriffing hells .
...
Ahsoka grins, knowing she's enjoying this far too much but really unable to stop. "Yes, he does," she says, giving Rex a meaningful look that he tries (unsuccessfully) to ignore. "Don't you, Rex?"
"Not really," Rex grumbles, giving her a Look that clearly says we're going to Talk about this later; she keeps smiling, unperturbed.
Fives looks back and forth between them for a moment, a slow grin widening across his face. "Commander, did you steal his comm?"
Ahsoka raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Guilty as charged," and kriff she knows this is going to be hard, but she can't help enjoying this while she can.
Behind Fives, Kix shifts a little, like he's unsure about the whole thing. "We can go, Captain," he starts to offer, and she doesn't know if Rex will take Kix up on that offer or not but she decides not to give him the chance.
So she cuts Kix off. "Rex, why don't you tell them about the training sims you've been running whenever you have free time, sometimes straight through the night?"
...
Rex grits his teeth and stands, settles his arms behind his back where his men won't see how tightly he's clenching his fists. "It's fine, Kix," he says, although he doesn't feel at all fine. He doesn't want to do all this again.
" Do you want to tell us about those sims, sir?" Fives says, and he doesn't sound pleased.
"Not particularly," Rex snaps, then sighs. "I've just- There was some difficulty after our last mission and I've been trying to deal with it."
Kix and Fives noticeably go still, get more serious at the mention of his "last mission" - the one he's been stubbornly refusing to talk about for weeks . Rex doesn't close off his connection to Ahsoka, but he does ignore it, because he has to be able to do this his own way, and he's angryabout it. "What kind of...?" Fives glances at Ahsoka, like he's trying to figure out if she knows anything about it. "Difficulty, Rex?"
Rex clenches his fists tighter, stubbornly refuses to shift or look away - he's not a kriffing shiny.
"Battle jitters," he says tensely, then has to elaborate because he knows that isn't good enough. "I haven't completed a single simulation."
Fives' eyes go wide and Rex wants to take it back. " You , sir?" the ARC trooper says, and Rex scowls.
"Yeah. I always- I freeze. Think I see things that aren't there."
"All due respect, Rex, but why? " Fives asks, and Kix gives him a look, although Rex can tell he wants to hear what he has to say. Kix knows better than any of his men what's wrong with Rex, although even he knows precious little.
Rex shifts his weight lightly from foot to foot before answering. He starts explaining the actual events on Kadavo, projecting gentleness and calm at Ahsoka, even as he finds himself feeling sick and vulnerable again, ends up looking at the floor, shoulders tense, as he tells them as clinically as he can how much had happened. He's grateful that neither of his friends say anything as he's talking, although whenever he glances up at them they both look furious .
But when he gets to explaining Agruss' shock collar and everything that happened after, he has to stop and shake his head, because he's drowning a little and he can't do this . Ahsoka soothes peace over the memories, eases love and understanding through the guilt, and he takes a second to breathe .
"It didn't stop," he says evenly, at least glad his voice doesn't shake. "I woke up restrained - I think I was leverage against Ahsoka." Like all the rest of the time . "I told her I couldn't fight again." He looks up, finds Fives looks somewhere between angry and lost. This time he keeps his head up, meets both of their eyes. "There was nowhere to go," and although he knows he looks strong, firm, he's desperate for them to understand. "I needed to survive."
When he doesn't continue right away, Kix takes a step towards him, arms unfolding from across his chest. "Rex," he says, voice clipped, "What are you trying to say?"
Rex's chest is caving in and he feels hardened into stone, afraid to move because if he does he might just shatter again. "I let them hurt the colonists," he says, "because I didn't want to get hurt anymore." It's easier to say the second time, if only barely. This time, because he's looking his men in the eyes, he sees the shock and confusion clear as day in their eyes before they can hide it.
"Sir?" Fives says cautiously, clearly trying to figure everything out. "I don't- You mean because of Commander Tano?"
That had been part of it but that is not what Rex means and he swallows, rolls his shoulders back to try to ease the tension that seems trapped in them. Ahsoka's mind is so close to his, and he clings to her nearness. He wishes he had his armor, but it wouldn't help him, anyway. "No, Fives, I meant what I said."
His friend stares at him, hard, frowning, and Rex is panicking but he stifles that for now.
Kix, ever the tactful one, seems just as confused, but at least he says something. "No offense, Captain, but… that doesn't sound like you."
Rex can't help it, he laughs , closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Thank you for your confidence, Kix," he says, knows he sounds bitter , "but it's misplaced this time. I gave up and almost didn't fight them in the end, and I still can't fight now ."
His men's expressions are indecipherable (which is highly unusual for Fives), and he finally has to drop his eyes again. They're silent for too long and he wants to tell them to forget it, wants to go run another kriffing simulation.
It's Fives who speaks first, voice rough with anger. "You know, vod ," he says. "Who gives a damn?"
Rex blinks, looks up, releasing a disbelieving huff of laughter. "I'm sorry?"
"You kriffing heard me. Who gives a shit?"
"Well I do, for one," Rex says, oddly offended.
"And?" Fives crosses his arms, shrugs expressively. "You're too kriffing noble all the time anyway, it was getting old."
"What he means," Kix says, lips twitching into a small smile, "is that we don't care if you gave up or almost gave up or any of that."
"But you-"
"Oh, for kriff's sake, shut up ," Fives snaps. "Let him finish."
Rex shuts up. He feels weirdly light, very confused, and maybe relieved.
"Sir, you're our Captain and our brother." Kix glances past Rex at Ahsoka and shifts awkwardly. "You saved the Togrutans and you're back, and you haven't let us down yet. So all due respect, but I think I'll decide whether my confidence is misplaced or not. And sir… You know we'd all follow you. If it came down to it, we'd choose your orders every time." Kix glances at Ahsoka again. "Even over the General's, sir. We trust you and that's not going to change just because you think we shouldn't."
"Besides, it's about time you failed a simulation," Fives grumbles, scratching his goatee. "It's not kriffing fair that you always beat them."
Rex snorts and shakes his head, finds himself having to swallow back tears. To think that they trust him more than General Skywalker, the best General they could have... How? "You don't… I don't understand."
"That's okay, vod ." Fives reaches out and pats his shoulder, awkwardly. Rex wants to grab him into a tight embrace, a thank you, but the vod'edon't really do things like that with other sentients around. It's too personal. "You don't have to understand, just stop being so kriffing stupid."
...
Ahsoka leans against the wall, a silent observer, though she sees Fives and Kix glance at her from time to time. She understands why, she thinks; she's not vod'e, not one of them. In fact, she's a Jedi, and even though she's their Jedi there's still a gulf between them the men never seem to be able to completely cross. So she sits and watches and waits, offering Rex support when he needs it.
Thank the Force she'd thought of this idea. She's not sure Rex would've really understood without his men telling him, in plainer words, everything she's been trying to say for weeks.
"Come on, sir," Fives says, and shoots Ahsoka a grin and a look. "Sorry, Commander, but it's our turn. Rex, get dressed. And don't forget your bucket!" he adds with a grin. "I think your jaig eyes are looking a little faded."
Ahsoka smiles, gives Rex a little mental 'push'. "Just give him back in one piece, Fives," she says, and Fives salutes.
Then, ignoring Rex's token protests, Kix and Fives help him get into his armor and practically drag him out into the corridor, probably heading for the barracks, Ahsoka thinks; she keeps the smile on her face until they're gone and then gently pulls up a few light shields between her mind and Rex's.
(She tells herself it's just so she doesn't distract Rex while he spends some well-earned time with his men, now that he finally realizes they don't hate him. But she knows herself well enough to know that's an excuse.)
The memories are too fresh, too vivid today; it'd been a good morning when she woke up, but after having to listen to Rex recount their time in Kadavo, all the pain, the horror, lingers at the top of her mind. She can't quite swallow it down, even as she returns to her own quarters to trade her loose sleep shirt for her dress and to slide her boots on. Before, she would've been afraid to pick up her 'sabers on a day like today, when she can feel so clearly everything that made her reach for the Dark Side in the first place (she would've done it anyway, but it's so much harder to practice forms when you're afraid of the weapons in your hands).
But today there's no insidious whisper of cold fear in her mind, though she still feels almost trapped, though she could nearly swear there's a collar around her neck. Today the cool touch of her 'sabers in her palms feels like strength, like victory. Kix was right, and so was Fives, she realizes-they don't care.
The Council would-will-care, about the Dark Side, about her breaking, but the Council can go kriff itself, really (except Master Obi-Wan). Her men (her brothers, even if they don't think of her as one of their own) are the ones whose opinions she wants, needs so desperately; her men and her Master.
And her men aren't afraid; they won't hate her, or refuse to follow her, or be cowed like they were by Krell. She's not Krell, even if she did use the Dark Side (the Dark was all they gave her, she remembers Rex telling Anakin in that conversation he'd hidden away, and she realizes how true those words are), and she never will be.
Once, her 'sabers felt like pain, like fear.
Today, they feel like freedom.
